ountry would know it, and after that female suffrage would be only
a question of time. Such was the conclusion, from rather insufficient
premises, it must be confessed; but if nature does nothing per
saltum,--by jumps,--as the old adage has it, youth is very apt to take
long leaps from a fact to a possible sequel or consequence. So it had
come about that a contest between the two boat-crews was looked forward
to with an interest almost equal to that with which the combat between
the Horatii and Curiatii was regarded.

The terms had been at last arranged between the two crews, after
cautious protocols and many diplomatic discussions. It was so novel in
its character that it naturally took a good deal of time to adjust it
in such a way as to be fair to both parties. The course must not be too
long for the lighter and weaker crew, for the staying power of the young
persons who made it up could not be safely reckoned upon. A certain
advantage must be allowed them at the start, and this was a delicate
matter to settle. The weather was another important consideration. June
would be early enough, in all probability, and if the lake should be
tolerably smooth the grand affair might come off some time in that
month. Any roughness of the water would be unfavorable to the weaker
crew. The rowing-course was on the eastern side of the lake, the
starting-point being opposite the Anchor Tavern; from that three
quarters of a mile to the south, where the turning-stake was fixed, so
that the whole course of one mile and a half would bring the boats back
to their starting-point.

The race was to be between the Algonquin, eight-oared boat with
outriggers, rowed by young men, students of Stoughton University, and
the Atalanta, also eight-oared and outrigger boat, by young ladies from
the Corinna Institute. Their boat was three inches wider than the other,
for various sufficient reasons, one of which was to make it a little
less likely to go over and throw its crew into the water, which was a
sound precaution, though all the girls could swim, and one at least, the
bow oar, was a famous swimmer, who had pulled a drowning man out of the
water after a hard struggle to keep him from carrying her down with him.

Though the coming trial had not been advertised in the papers, so as to
draw together a rabble of betting men and ill-conditioned lookers-on,
there was a considerable gathering, made up chiefly of the villagers
and the students of the t